Ruins of Bikini Bottom
by Barsonia
Summary: Spongebob, Sandy, and Squidward traverse the post-apocalyptic nightmare of Bikini Bottom as they search for Patrick, a place of safety, and information on the sinister nature of what happened to their home.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello, everyone! I just want to preface this story by saying that I know the tone of it doesn't completely match the show's. However, I hope that the story and characterization will make up for that small flaw. Enjoy!**

The three sets of footsteps was the only noise for miles. There was an impenetrable wall of fog surrounding the walkers, and the sand they made their course on was plain and nearly completely leveled. The three figures were walking towards a broken and rundown building. The paint was chipped, the windows were broken, and there were spiderwebs and dust decorating the outside walls all around. A fallen down sign said, underneath the multiple layers of dust, sand, and rust, "Krusty Krab". The three creatures were familiar with what this building once was, but what it had become was something entirely foreign to them.

As they neared it, the cephalopod with the painted-on frown spoke up in his monotonous and mildly condescending tone of voice, "Spongebob, we're wasting our time looking for supplies here. This place has probably been raided a million times by now."

Spongebob gave no response. His eyes were fixed on his target, and his face was utterly determined to reach it. The squirrel next to him, on the other hand, had a reply.

"Squidward, will ya'll stop being so gosh-darn negative about everything? Spongebob is usually right about this kinda stuff," She said with a glare at Squidward, and though he was about to give a scathing retort, silence took over as the small group reached the building.

The doors were already broken, so a small kick from the sponge sufficed in clearing a pathway. The breaking glass echoed throughout. The interior of the structure looked even worse than the outside. Tables and chairs in varying states of disrepair lay scattered around, and the webs and dust thickly covered every square inch of matter. The wood that the main room was made of was completely rotted. The trio paused for a moment, all with a look of shock on their face, but in seconds these looks faded, and the group got moving.

They moved past the room quickly, heading over to the room behind the barely-recognizable cash register. Perhaps their speed was a matter of efficiency (there were clearly no supplies to be found in the main room), but it also might be attributed to none of them wanting to have to see a place they had all once known in its deteriorated state. Whatever the case, none of them looked around the pathway they made, other than to knock over any obstacles in their way.

They pushed the rusted door open, and they found the remnants of a kitchen awaiting them. Most of what was once used to cook, including the grill and fryers, was missing. From there, they split up. Spongebob went to the freezer, while Sandy and Squidward looked around in the cupboards. The duo found some tightly-sealed hamburger buns, and figured that they were probably edible. Other than that, none of the food items seemed fresh enough for consumption, so they left those behind. Spongebob had no luck in the freezer, as, just like they had expected, it had been without power for quite some time.

Unknown to the other two, however, Spongebob had found something in the freezer that he had not expected to find. Three corpses and one detached head that didn't seem to belong to any of the other three. This would have frightened Spongebob a long time ago, but after all that he had seen since this began, the scene didn't disturb him. He was sure the other two also wouldn't be particularly affected, but he figured that he wouldn't take his chances by telling them what he witnessed.

The next room they looked around in was decayed, but it also had hints of a once-ordinate and grandiose decoration. A desk was there, and wide-open space was all around. After looking around in dozens of hidden compartments and safes, they had found a small fortune in paper money.

Worthless. Absolutely worthless. Money was no good anymore, as they were all aware, so they left it behind, or, in Squidward's case, needlessly tore it up. Some vendettas and grudges hadn't completely disappeared from the old world.

It wasn't a total loss, however. They did find some extra firearms scattered around. Squidward called "dibs" on the shotgun, and Spongebob and Sandy each took a handgun. Spongebob examined his gun for a moment, before sliding it and its ammunition into one of his holsters. Though some who once knew him might find the very idea amusing, the sponge looked positively dangerous now. His military garb, combined with his guns and dozens of knives, made his scarred face seem a lot more threatening than one might assume at first glance.

With all of this done, the troupe finally decided to leave the Neptune-forsaken building behind. As they left and prepared to continue their long and arduous journey, however, Spongebob (again, unknown to the other two) looked back at the Krusty Krab in its shambles, and shed a small tear for it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello! Here's another chapter (yes, it really did take me this long to write such a short chapter). Hope you enjoy!**

**Also, if I didn't make it clear, the sections that are in italics indicate flashback sequences.**

For the group, sleep was always a luxury. They seldom got it, and when they did get it, it was always too little. After their raid of the Krusty Krab, the sun was beginning to set, and shining its brilliant multi-colored rays all across the horizon. Other than traveling, there was little work that could be done at night, and traveling wasn't a choice, because for the first time in a month, the trio had absolutely no idea of where to go from where they were. Granted, Squidward and Sandy usually had no idea where to go in the first place, and typically just followed Spongebob's lead. Unfortunately for them, Spongebob had lost any sort of plan of action, and so they were merely a flock without a Shepard.

All of these factors, combined with an extreme sense of exhaustion and desire for sleep, led to them setting up camp about a mile and a half into the barren wasteland from the Krusty Krab. "Camp", of course, was just a small fire. Small, for many reasons. One of the more obvious that springs to mind is bandits and thugs. However, there are dangers under the ocean far greater than hooligans with weapons. Far, **far **greater.

"Remember the Marching Band?" Sandy asked while she threw a small log onto the fire, interrupting the silence that had been permeating the scene for quite some time.

"How could I ever? It was the worst time of my life, and somehow the best at the same time," Squidward responded in a melancholy tone. The three all looked at each other for a brief moment, and then suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. The night continued much like that for several hours, with the trio exchanging stories of the past and the old world, laughing all the time.

That was, until the noise. The horrifying screech. The incomprehensibly loud, high-pitched, ear-rattling, mind-rupturing sonic boom of pure malevolence and terrifying anti-natural, clashing tones. The sound that many under the sea had often heard since all of the chaos began, and seldom forgot, yet always wanted to. The group all lost their smiles and light facial expressions, and substituted them with shell-shocked and horrified expressions. After the screech stopped, complete silence ensued once more.

"I'll take first watch," Spongebob said with his face changing to complete blankness, and the others agreed without any words or gestures, instead laying down, attempting to sleep.

Spongebob moved slightly away from camp, and faced the piercing darkness of the desert. The darkness that was interrupted only by the burning embers of the group's campfire. The perimeter of brief light felt safe and secure, but after that, there was pitch black and danger lurking in the shadows. The sponge wasn't sure where the dangers exactly were, if they even existed, but he knew that it was his job to protect his friends, and that he would not fail this job.

As he watched the darkness with wide-open eyes (and dirt-stained hands gripping two of his handguns), he began to hear the snoring of his friends. Snoring. That reminded him of something..

_Flash._

_Spongebob awoke in the night. Seldom did this happen. He was tired and his eyes could barely open (not that it mattered with the darkness that engulfed his bedroom), but he was curious as to what caused him to awaken._

_He glanced over at Gary, and quickly deduced the source of his wakefulness. The snail was snoring extremely loudly. Spongebob watched Gary's breathing, gently exhaling, and gently inhaling. Spongebob smiled. There was a certain peacefulness to the snail that he found immeasurably comforting. It was difficult for him to understand why this was, but it didn't matter. He laid his head back down on his soft pillow and went back to sleep with the small remnant of a smile left on his face. Happiness had overtaken him, and he was glad to be alive, even if he was unconscious._

Spongebob rubbed his eyes. Memories. Useless, distracting memories; that's all it was. He had to **focus. **Sandy and Squidward needed to be protected, and he was busy having flashbacks! How absurd! He gripped his handguns even tighter, and shifted his concentration back to the darkness that held the unseen enemies that he was guarding his friends from. Except they weren't unseen. He had seen them before. Many times, but one time would always stick out in his mind for the rest of his days.

_Flash._

_Spongebob tried to gather his belongings as quickly as possible. The energy of the room was tense and thick, and as he raced around his house, getting everything that he thought he would need (which was too much, as he oftentimes had proven himself to be quite the inefficient packer), the newscasters played in the background._

"_-officials warning the citizens not to panic. However, the streets are congested with traffic on a scale we've never SEEN BEFORE! MASS RIOTING AND LOOTING ARE TAKING PLACE ALL OVER THE CITY! THE VIRUS IS INEFECTING PEOPLE AT AN EXPONENTIAL RATE! SAVE YOURSELVES! SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAVE YOURSELVEEEEEES! And now, here's Murray with the weather."_

_Spongebob barely even heard it. He was too busy packing. He filled his six suitcases with the bare-bone necessities. He then calmly and quietly turned off the lights, opened the door, shut and locked it behind him, and turned around to prepare his journey. What he saw nearly made his eyes pop out of his head, which isn't technically an unseen feat for Spongebob, but is still noteworthy. First of all, there were dead bodies everywhere. This fact alone made the sponge vomit. Next, there were crashed boats on fire all along the street of Spongebob's tiny neighborhood, along with large groups of people looting both the bodies and the boats. Spongebob heard glass breaking, and looked to see that the looters had smashed in Squidward's house and hoards of them were running out with all of his possessions. _

_Spongebob had to make it out of here before his house faced the same fate as Squidward's. He slowly started walking along the street, when he saw the people around him all suddenly fleeing at an unbelievably speedy pace in the same direction that he was. He turned around, to see what all the commotion was about._

_And then he saw them._

He clenched his head in his hands with his eyes closed. What was he doing?! He needed to stop **thinking, **and start **watching.** His friends were counting on him. He knew this, and he was absolutely determined not to let them down.

But, a small voice in his head reminded him of something, even though he tried with all of his mental energy to suppress the voice. The voice repeated the same thing over and over again like a broken record:

He had already let one of his friends down.

_Flash._

_Spongebob woke to the faint early-dawn sunrise. He glanced around him, and saw Squidward and Sandy were still sleeping. Naturally, Patrick must be around the camp, as he had taken last watch. Spongebob momentarily closed his eyes as he thought about what had led him to where he was. It had been roughly three months since all hell had broken loose. In those three months, he, Patrick, Squidward, and Sandy had banded together to face these nightmarish evils as a team._

_Spongebob opened his eyes and sat up. As he looked around the perimeter of the camp, Patrick was nowhere to be seen. This temporarily shocked him, but he quickly figured that the starfish couldn't have gone very far. He stood up and looked all around the outside border of the camp with his binoculars, but still there was no sign of Patrick. Just barrenness all around. Panic finally set in._

"_Guys, wake up! I can't find Patrick! GUYS!" He yelled at the others, and they all quickly sprang into action. They yelled Patrick's name at the top of their lungs, not caring about bandits or dangers or anything except finding their friend. They must have searched every inch for miles, but it was useless. He was nowhere to be found._

_Patrick was gone._

Spongebob was sweating profusely, and his hands were shaking uncontrollably as he held his eyes shut, trying to fight back the incoming tears. His heart was racing as he relived the horrid past that he had spent so long trying with all of his power to forget.

He then felt a gentle hand on his shoulder, and whirled around to see the concerned face of Sandy. They exchanged a knowing look in silence, and then the squirrel sat down next to him. They looked off into the dangerous dark together, and, for the first time since the noise, Spongebob finally felt the vaguest hint of comfort.


	3. Chapter 3

Walking. If they ever needed a reminder that they were alive, it was the exhaustion that resulted from the seemingly never-ending walking. Their feet making the repetitive motion on the sand had become so normal to them that a day where they didn't have to experience any long-distance walking would have felt strange and uncomfortable. Spongebob glanced at the other two, who had their heads down and eyes staring blankly into the moving sand, never really focusing on anything in particular. This, combined with their barren expressions and robotic movements, greatly concerned the sponge. He knew that if something good didn't happen soon, he very well might lose his friends to what had been dubbed "Survivor Madness" by the residents of this new world.; a condition caused by the harsh and demanding nature of survival. The characteristics of the Madness were similar to that of clinical depression, except none ever recovered from it. Some who became afflicted with it directly killed themselves, but most simply sat in the sand motionless until they died. In any case, Spongebob was resolute to let no such thing happen to either him or his friends.

Unfortunately, the mystical "good thing" he had desperately hoped for didn't come. What did come was the faint sound of a motorcycle engine off in the distance. And then seven more. The group was nearly paralyzed with fear. After scanning the horizon, Spongebob, to his complete and utter despair, saw the faint shadows of the bikes racing towards them. He momentarily thought about running away, but quickly dismissed the idea, as, at their current rate, there was no possible way for the survivors to outrun the motorcycle gang. And, of course, Spongebob knew that was what they were: a motorcycle gang. He had seen enough of them in his time.

"Alright, guys. There aren't a lot of options here. Take out your weapons and prepare to stand your ground!" He gruffly spoke to the other two, and they nodded in the affirmative as they all drew their firearms out and prepared for what seemed to be an unstoppable death. The gang wasted no time in creating a stationary circle around the trio, making any sort of escape attempt an impossibility.

"Give us all your shit," the obvious leader of the thugs spat with a smug grin on his face, waving his pistol to make it clear that he was no stranger to killing innocent passerbys in cold blood. Of course, the three skulls he was wearing on a chain around his neck also accomplished that task quite nicely. No one could see his eyes past his sunglasses, but Spongebob knew they were cold and hardened, much like his own.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but we aren't giving you anything. So, if you'd like, you can go ask someone else. I think I saw a couple of toddlers back a mile or two that might suit your..'gang' better," Spongebob said, not a single expression on his face or tone in his voice hinting at the crippling fear he felt deep inside his soul.

The expressions on the bikers' faces quickly turned from shock to pure rage, and as they started to take out their guns, Spongebob had the distinct and uncommon feeling of knowing that he was about to die. It was incomprehensibly strange to feel an emotion that he had never previously experienced. Before shots were fired, however, something happened.

The dreaded noise returned. The same noise, of course, that had tormented the group the night before. For a brief second, every single creature in the area had their hearts stilled. The bikers looked at each other for a moment, and then quickly, unanimously, and without any words being spoken, sped away from the trio, leaving nothing behind but a swirling collection of dust as their engines faded off in the distance. And then, Spongebob, Squidward, and Sandy finally had a plan for the first time in quite a while. They had to run, and fast. And so they did. It was a desperate attempt at survival, and, to their credit, they truly dedicated every fiber of their being to the task as they ran in the opposite direction of the noise. It was no use, of course. No matter how hard or fast they moved their legs, the noise kept repeating itself, and getting closer and closer. Soon, it multiplied. Spongebob offhandedly estimated there were three separate noises. It didn't matter how many there were, though, because he had no intention of coming face to face with the things that produced them.

His intentions were irrelevant. After some time, the group ran out of energy and breath, and they couldn't continue on any further. Knowing that there was no other option, they spun around, angled their guns in a firing position, and prepared for what was to come. They soon saw the shadows of the figures approaching over a sandy hill, and, at an astonishing speed, they came rushing towards Spongebob and his friends. He hadn't estimated quite correctly, as there were four instead of three.

"Hold your fire!" Spongebob commanded of the others, as they all attempted to still the shaking of their hands (or, in Squidward's case, tentacles) and hold their firearms steady.

Details began to emerge from the quickly approaching enemies. The scabbed, rotting, bizarrely-colored skin loosely attached to their bodies. The torn and bloodied rags hanging off of their frames, remnants of a time when modesty and protection from the elements held any meaning to them. Open mouths filled to the brim with foam, covering the sharp and blackened teeth that hid behind it. Legs and arms that moved unnaturally, flailing rather uncontrollably, with the long and frightening nails stretching out from each and every finger and toe. And of course, the bright red, soulless and empty eyes that could be spotted from a mile away. They were horrid monstrosities, they were terrifying brutes, and they were untamed, wild animals. They were the Infected.

Once the creatures were approximately twenty yards away, Spongebob gave the command,

"Fire!"

And they did. They fired quickly and repeatedly at the hideous beasts. Blood and puss sprayed all across the perimeter as the creatures slowly but surely started to succumb to the unending rain of bullets and began to walk instead of run, crawl instead of walk, and lay motionless instead of crawl. Spongebob wasted absolutely no time in pulling his trusty metal baseball bat from his bag and running towards the Infected, who had finally stopped maybe five yards from the trio. As he kept a reasonably safe distance from the moaning and growling beings, he proceeded to smash the skulls of each and every single one. Multiple swings for each monster, making absolutely sure that there was no possible way that the...things could survive. As he finally finished his work, he let out a savage scream that echoed all across the desert, and he fell to his knees. Complete silence overtook the surrounding area, which created a sharp and uncomfortable contrast to the deafening sounds of battle that had flooded the scene just moments before.

Squidward and Sandy looked on uneasily at Spongebob, still on his knees, with his head ducked down, facing the ground and nothing else. They occasionally glanced at each other with questionable expressions, as if to say, 'What now?'. However, they didn't have to ponder much longer, as the sponge soon returned to his senses, got up, brushed the sand off of his clothes, picked his bloodied bat back up, and went back to the group. They packed up their weapons and silently left behind the grisly scene.

And so it was that the Travelers continued on, sick and weary, but never quite broken.

**A/N: I know this doesn't answer a whole lot of questions, but I hope it was an exciting chapter nonetheless! And, unless something goes horribly wrong, the next chapter should do a lot of said question-answering. Thank you for reading!**


End file.
